08 December 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

8 December, 1944       1520

My dearest darling Wilma –>

I thought I’d be writing you tomorrow that I didn’t have any time to write you today and that you’d have to chalk up one more day that I had to miss. I guess there haven’t been too many misses in the 13 months, dear, have there? At any rate, there’s been a little break in my running around and I’m writing you now. You’ll notice, darling, that I don’t write very often – if ever – at night. The reason is the poor lighting facilities which at present consist of a kerosene lamp. We play Bridge by it – with the help of a candle on the opposite corner of the table – but on the whole – it is not very good light for writing.

It’s a funny thing – but by comparison with the summertime – we’re relatively immobile now and yet it doesn’t seem as if I get as much time to sit down and write a decent letter. What I wonder, sometimes, is how my letters were in August and September when we were really eating up the ground and moving every other day or so. I don’t know how I got letters out to you every day, then; making a 60 or 70 mile trip in each forward move – was not unusual. I wish we were doing it now. We haven’t got a heck of a lot more than 300 miles to go, I should say. I think once this bitter fighting is over with – we’ll start traveling swiftly.

Well, sweetheart, after sweating out several days of no mail – I got two from you – the most recent in several months, too – one from the 25th and one from the 26th of November. And I got a real kick out of your story about the clock. I’m amazed it came at all and surprised that there was so much damage to it. As you saw, darling, it was packed pretty well, but I guess they just toss things around anyway they wish. I think I was wrong in not sending a little diagram along to help you put it together – but then look at all the fun you’d miss. I’m not surprised at your not fancying the thing at first. When I saw it – I fell for it immediately – but I didn’t see it in a box; it was resting on a tremendous mantelpiece – in a very large room – drawing room, reception room, – I don’t know which; all the furniture was period and French – and this clock “belonged”. The home, I should say Palace – was that of Baron Maurice de Rothschild and I believe I told you already what a magnificent place it was. So if nothing more, Sweetheart, you at least have a clock that once belonged to the Rothschilds. As for what to do with it, sweetheart – that’s up to you. You might as well use it – if it fits into the house anywhere. Or put it away if it doesn’t. I merely sent it as a memento – and on the spur of the moment did I obtain it –

Well, darling, that’s all for now. It was swell hearing from you again and maybe we’ll get some more regular service now. Be well, dear, and don’t be blue. All will turn out O.K. and we’ll have each other yet. Keep loving me as I love you darling, and that’s all that matters now. Love to everyone at home. So long for now.

All my sincerest love, dear

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Patton's Prayer
and Christmas Greeting

What follows are excerpts from the the story of how the famous "Patton Prayer" and Christmas Greeting came to be sent to the men of the Third Army on 8 December, 1944, as told by his Chaplain, Colonel James H. O'Neill.

General Patton... had all the traits of military leadership, fortified by genuine trust in God, intense love of country, and high faith in the American soldier... He was true to the principles of his religion, Episcopalian, and was regular in Church attendance and practices, unless duty made his presence impossible.

The incident... commenced with a telephone call to the Third Army Chaplain on the morning of December 8, 1944, when the Third Army Headquarters were located in... Nancy, France: "This is General Patton; do you have a good prayer for weather? We must do something about those rains if we are to win the war." My reply was that I know where to look for such a prayer, that I would locate one, and report within the hour. As I hung up the telephone receiver... I looked out on the steadily falling rain, "immoderate" I would call it -- the same rain that had plagued Patton's Army throughout the Moselle and Saar Campaigns from September until now, December 8. The few prayer books at hand contained no formal prayer on weather that might prove acceptable to the Army Commander. Keeping his immediate objective in mind, I typed an original and an improved copy on a 5" x 3" filing card:

Almighty and most merciful Father, we humbly beseech Thee, of Thy great goodness, to restrain these immoderate rains with which we have had to contend. Grant us fair weather for Battle. Graciously hearken to us as soldiers who call upon Thee that, armed with Thy power, we may advance from victory to victory, and crush the oppression and wickedness of our enemies and establish Thy justice among men and nations.

I pondered the question, What use would General Patton make of the prayer? ... If he intended it for circulation to chaplains or others, with Christmas not far removed, it might he proper to type the Army Commander's Christmas Greetings on the reverse side. This would please the recipient, and anything that pleased the men I knew would please him:

To each officer and soldier in the Third United States Army, I Wish a Merry Christmas. I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty, and skill in battle. We march in our might to complete victory. May God's blessings rest upon each of you on this Christmas Day. G.S. Patton, Jr, Lieutenant General, Commanding, Third United States Army.

This done, I donned my heavy trench coat... and reported to General Patton. He read the prayer copy, returned it to me with a very casual directive, "Have 250,000 copies printed and see to it that every man in the Third Army gets one." The size of the order amazed me; this was certainly doing something about the weather in a big way. But I said nothing but the usual, "Very well, Sir!" Recovering, I invited his attention to the reverse side containing the Christmas Greeting, with his name and rank typed. "Very good," he said, with a smile of approval. "If the General would sign the card, it would add a personal touch that I am sure the men would like." He took his place at his desk, signed the card, returned it to me.

He then said: "Chaplain, sit down for a moment; I want to talk to you about this business of prayer." He rubbed his face in his hands, was silent for a moment, then rose and walked over to the high window, and stood there with his back toward me as he looked out on the falling rain. As usual, he was dressed stunningly, and his six-foot-two powerfully built physique made an unforgettable silhouette against the great window. The General Patton I saw there was the Army Commander to whom the welfare of the men under him was a matter of personal responsibility... What was coming now?

"Chaplain, how much praying is being done in the Third Army?" was his question. I parried: "Does the General mean by chaplains, or by the men?" "By everybody," he replied. To this I countered: "I am afraid to admit it, but I do not believe that much praying is going on. When there Is fighting, everyone prays, but now with this constant rain -- when things are quiet, dangerously quiet, men just sit and wait for things to happen. Prayer out here is difficult. Both chaplains and men are removed from a special building with a steeple. Prayer to most of them is a formal, ritualized affair, involving special posture and a liturgical setting. I do not believe that much praying is being done."

The General left the window, and again seated himself at his desk, leaned back in his swivel chair, toying with a long lead pencil between his index fingers.

"Chaplain, I am a strong believer in Prayer. There are three ways that men get what they want; by planning, by working, and by Praying. Any great military operation takes careful planning, or thinking. Then you must have well-trained troops to carry it out: that's working. But between the plan and the operation there is always an unknown. That unknown spells defeat or victory, success or failure. It is the reaction of the actors to the ordeal when it actually comes. Some people call that getting the breaks; I call it God. God has His part, or margin in everything, That's where prayer comes in. Up to now, in the Third Army, God has been very good to us. We have never retreated; we have suffered no defeats, no famine, no epidemics. This is because a lot of people back home are praying for us. We were lucky in Africa, in Sicily, and in Italy. Simply because people prayed. But we have to pray for ourselves, too. A good soldier is not made merely by making him think and work. There is something in every soldier that goes deeper than thinking or working--it's his "guts." It is something that he has built in there: it is a world of truth and power that is higher than himself. Great living is not all output of thought and work. A man has to have intake as well. I don't know what you call it, but I call it Religion, Prayer, or God..."

To all this I commented agreement, that one of the major training objectives of my office was to help soldiers recover and make their lives effective in this third realm, prayer. It would do no harm to re-impress this training on chaplains. We had about 486 chaplains in the Third Army at that time, representing 32 denominations. Once the Third Army had become operational, my mode of contact with the chaplains had been chiefly through Training Letters issued from time to time to the Chaplains in the four corps and the 22 to 26 divisions comprising the Third Army. Each treated of a variety of subjects of corrective or training value to a chaplain working with troops in the field.

[Patton continued:]

"I wish you would put out a Training Letter on this subject of Prayer to all the chaplains; write about nothing else, just the importance of prayer. Let me see it before you send it. We've got to get not only the chaplains but every man in the Third Army to pray. We must ask God to stop these rains. These rains are that margin that hold defeat or victory. If we all pray, it will be like what Dr. Carrel said [the allusion was to a press quote some days previously when Dr. Alexis Carrel, one of the foremost scientists, described prayer "as one of the most powerful forms of energy man can generate"], it will be like plugging in on a current whose source is in Heaven. I believe that prayer completes that circuit. It is power."

With that the General arose from his chair, a sign that the interview was ended. I returned to my field desk, typed Training Letter No. 5 while the "copy" was "hot," touching on some or all of the General's reverie on Prayer, and after staff processing, presented it to General Patton on the next day. The General read it and without change directed that it be circulated not only to the 486 chaplains, but to every organization commander down to and including the regimental level. Three thousand two hundred copies were distributed to every unit in the Third Army over my signature as Third Army Chaplain. Strictly speaking, it was the Army Commander's letter, not mine. Due to the fact that the order came directly from General Patton, distribution was completed on December 11 and 12 in advance of its date line, December 14, 1944. Titled "Training Letter No. 5," with the salutary "Chaplains of the Third Army," the letter continued: "At this stage of the operations I would call upon the chaplains and the men of the Third United States Army to focus their attention on the importance of prayer.

"Our glorious march from the Normandy Beach across France to where we stand, before and beyond the Siegfried Line, with the wreckage of the German Army behind us should convince the most skeptical soldier that God has ridden with our banner. Pestilence and famine have not touched us. We have continued in unity of purpose. We have had no quitters; and our leadership has been masterful. The Third Army has no roster of Retreats. None of Defeats. We have no memory of a lost battle to hand on to our children from this great campaign..."

"Those who pray do more for the world than those who fight; and if the world goes from bad to worse, it is because there are more battles than prayers... Urge all of your men to pray, not alone in church, but everywhere. Pray when driving. Pray when fighting. Pray alone. Pray with others. Pray by night and pray by day. Pray for the cessation of immoderate rains, for good weather for Battle. Pray for the defeat of our wicked enemy whose banner is injustice and whose good is oppression. Pray for victory. Pray for our Army, and Pray for Peace..."

"Be assured that this message on prayer has the approval, the encouragement, and the enthusiastic support of the Third United States Army Commander..."

The timing of the Prayer story is important. Both the Prayer Cards and Training Letter No. 5 reached the troops by December 12-14. The German breakthrough was on December 16 in the First Army Zone when the Germans crept out of the Schnee Eifel Forest in the midst of heavy rains, thick fogs, and swirling ground mists that muffled sound, blotted out the sun, and reduced visibility to a few yards. The few divisions on the Luxembourg frontier... found it hard to fight an enemy they could neither see nor hear... The German Sixth Panzer Army... seared through the Ardennes like a hot knife through butter. The First Army's VIII Corps was holding this area with three infantry divisions thinly disposed over an 88-mile front and with one armored division far to the rear, in reserve... It was considered a semi-rest area and outside of a little patrolling was wholly an inactive position.

When the blow struck, the VIII Corps fought with imperishable heroism. The Germans were slowed down but the Corps was too shattered to stop them with its remnants. Meanwhile, to the north, the Fifth Panzer Army was slugging through another powerful prong along the vulnerable boundary between the VIII and VI Corps. Had the bad weather continued there is no telling how far the Germans might have advanced. On the 19th of December, the Third Army turned from East to North to meet the attack. As General Patton rushed his divisions north from the Saar Valley to the relief of the beleaguered Bastogne, the prayer was answered.

On December 20, to the consternation of the Germans and the delight of the American forecasters who were equally surprised at the turn-about-the rains and the fogs ceased. For the better part of a week came bright clear skies and perfect flying weather. Our planes came over by tens, hundreds, and thousands. They knocked out hundreds of tanks, killed thousands of enemy troops in the Bastogne salient, and harried the enemy as he valiantly tried to bring up reinforcements. The 101st Airborne, with the 4th, 9th, and 10th Armored Divisions, which saved Bastogne, and other divisions which assisted so valiantly in driving the Germans home, will testify to the great support rendered by our air forces. General Patton prayed for fair weather for Battle. He got it.

It was late in January of 1945 when I saw the Army Commander again. This was in the city of Luxembourg. He stood directly in front of me, smiled: "Well, Padre, our prayers worked. I knew they would." Then he cracked me on the side of my steel helmet with his riding crop. That was his way of saying, "Well done."

To further show his appreciation, General Patton awarded the Bronze Star Medal to Chaplain O'Neill. Chaplain James H. O'Neill retired as a Brigadier General.

07 December 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

7 December, 1944       1100

My dearest sweetheart –

This being the 7th – I suppose it is somewhat of a Holiday or something back home – or maybe just a few speeches will mark the day. There’s nothing going on here, dear, except the war – and that just keeps going on. It will soon be six months for us in a combat area and we’re already entitled to two stripes on our left sleeves – for one year overseas. What with the campaign stars we’ve earned for taking part in the Normandy and Northern France Campaign, plus one for our activity in the Battle of Germany – I’ll have a whole mess of stuff to wear. Oh hum! What glory!

I’ve just finished sick call, I hope, and should be free now until noon. Then I must trek out and do a bit of inspecting. Last night I played a bit of Bridge and lost 38 marks – the most I’ve lost at any one time since we started playing. We just couldn’t seem to get decent hands together – no matter who my partner was.

We’ve been sweating out our monthly liquor ration – but it hasn’t come in as yet. We wanted to have a bit of a brawl on Saturday night. We have a good place for it, but how can you tie one on without spirits?

I don’t remember whether I told you or not, dear, but we had a pretty nice movie the other night which you’ve undoubtedly seen – Bing Crosby in “Going My Way”. We were just in the mood for that sort of picture - and I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a picture so much. Barry Fitzgerald as Father Fitzgibbons was excellent.

Gee – I read about your being at Nancy’s one night when she had a half dozen couples over. I didn’t know any of the ones you mentioned – except Verna and Irv, of course, but somehow it made my mouth water – just the thought of it. It seems so long since I’ve done anything like that, Sweetheart, I wonder if I’ll know how to act in the company of gentlemen and ladies, just spending an evening together. When you’ve been in the Army long enough, you get used to having only men around and your conversation deteriorates in character and vocabulary – as a result. Blasphemy and profanity are taken for granted and it almost seems as if it’s impossible to say something without using a couple of profane words – at least. Well – I’ll be able to overcome it, I guess. Life is going to be enjoyable after the war Sweetheart – no matter what hardships may or may not be in store. First of all and most important – I’ll have you – my own and all to myself; that alone is going to be wonderful, darling – and honestly, I find it difficult to believe or even imagine at times. Then we’ll have some nice friends and places to visit. Things like that – from this point – seem like treasures. I’ll stop at this point or I’ll get too nostalgic and now is not the time for it. There’s a war to get over with first. I’ll say only, Sweetheart, that I love you so deeply – it hurts – the hurt coming from the fact that I can’t have you yet. But I will!

Love to the folks, darling and

All my sincerest love.

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about "Going My Way"

Greg mentioned that he saw the movie "Going My Way" with Bing Crosby and Barry Fitzgerald. Tom Keogh on Amazon's website briefly describes the movie this way:

This irresistible Oscar winner from writer-director Leo McCarey (An Affair to Remember) stars Bing Crosby as a low-key, crooning priest who joins the parish of a no-nonsense but sweet old Irish man of the cloth (Barry Fitzgerald). While Bing turns local toughs into a choir, the elder priest worries over the church building fund and whether he'll get a chance to see his old mother back in Ireland before she dies. One would have to have a heart of stone not to be won over by this charmer, with a lovely ending guaranteed to make you bawl for a week.

Here is the trailer, followed first by one of the well-known tunes in this movie - the Academy Award winner for "Best Original Song" - Swinging on a Star. That is followed by another sung in the movie, Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral (That's An Irish Lullaby)

06 December 1944

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

6 December, 1944        1630

My darling Wilma –

I’ve just returned from one of the batteries – having been there most of the afternoon. I was busy all morning and couldn’t find a moment to write. Among other things we’re having a whole mess of visiting firemen and they’ve been in and out looking our place over all day. It reminds me of the good old days in the States and in England when we had inspection after inspection. They don’t mean quite so much, now, though, as far as I can figure it out.

We’ve had no mail now for a few days running although packages have been coming in. Hope you’re hearing more regularly from me, darling. At any rate – spotty or not, I love you always, dear, and remember that on the days you don’t hear. That’s what I do. Must go now, sweetheart; excuse the brevity, but I can’t help it. Love to all and

My deepest love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the Heinkel He 162 "Volksjäger"

Mostly from the My Hobby Life website and Wikipedia comes this description of the Heinkel He 162 Volksjäger (People's Fighter).

By the end of April, 1944, the backbone of the German Jagdwaffe (fighter force) had been broken, with many of its leading aces killed in combat. Replacements were slow to arrive, leaving the Luftwaffe unable to put up much of a fight through the summer of 1944. With few planes coming up to fight, the U.S. fighters were let loose on the German airbases, railways and truck traffic. Logistics soon became a serious problem for the Luftwaffe, maintaining aircraft in fighting condition almost impossible, and having enough fuel for a complete mission profile was even more difficult.

The Volksjäger was designed in an all-out effort to prevent the defeat of Germany near the end of World War II. Heinkel designed the small jet plane, with a sleek, streamlined fuselage. The BMW 003 axial-flow turbojet was mounted atop the fuselage directly aft of the cockpit. Twin vertical tailfins were mounted at the ends of highly dihedralled horizontal tailplanes to clear the jet exhaust. It had a high-mounted straight wing with a forward-swept trailing edge and shallow dihedral, an ejection seat for the pilot, and tricycle landing gear that retracted into the fuselage. It was the world's first operational single jet engine, interceptor fighter and the fastest of the first generation of Axis and Allied jets.

"Volksjäger" was the Reich Air Ministry's official name for the government design competition that the He 162 design had won. Other names given to the plane include Salamander, which was the codename of its construction program, and Spatz ("Sparrow"), which was the name given to the plane by Heinkel. The prototype flew within an astoundingly short period of time: the design was chosen on 25 September and first one flew on 6 December 1944, less than 90 days later. This was despite the fact that the factory in Wuppertal making Tego film plywood glue — used in a substantial number of late-war German aviation designs whose airframes were meant to be constructed mostly from wood — had been bombed by the Royal Air Force and a replacement had to be quickly substituted.

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

Rear side view of an He 162

Though it was a technical marvel for its time, the aircraft was designed to be among the less expensive and could be built by semi-skilled labor from non-strategic materials like wood. The first flight of the He 162, by Flugkapitän Gotthard Peter, was fairly successful, but during a high-speed run at 840 km/hr (520 mph), the highly acidic replacement glue attaching the nose gear failed and the pilot was forced to land. Other problems were noted as well, notably a pitch instability and problems with slideslip due to the rudder design. Neither was considered important enough to hold up the production schedule for even a day. On a second flight on 10 December, again with Peter at the controls, in front of various Nazi officials, the glue again caused a structural failure. This allowed the aileron to separate from the wing, causing the plane to roll over and crash, killing Peter.

He 162 coming in for a landing

Once the prototype's structural and aerodynamical problems were fixed, the first operational He 162s were delivered to the Luftwaffe in 1945. When the production stopped, approximately 250 units had been built and 800 were at different stages on the assembly lines. The full capacity rate of production had been planned to be of 4,000 units per month.

He 162's were produced underground at
Salzburg, the Hinterbrühl and the Mittlewerk.

While the records are not 100% authoritative, it appears that three individual Luftwaffe pilots did score "credible" kills while flying the He 162 A-1 in combat against the RAF and the USAAF. The first "kill" of is credited to Oberst (CPT) Herbert Ihlefeld's wingman, Sill, near Kirchheim-Treck in early February of 1945. On 21 April 1945, a number of He 162's conducted operational missions against Allied ground forces in northern Germany, operating out of Leck near the Danish-German border. On 26 April 1945, Unteroffizier Rechenbach witnessed to have downed an Allied aircraft flying his He 162. On 04 May 1945, Leutnant Rudolf Schmitt allegedly shot down an RAF Typhoon near Rostock. (Of important note is that official British RAF records do not substantiate this claim.) After the war, the remaining units were taken to the countries of the winning forces and used for jet engine aircraft pilot training. There are eight survivors today, in museums around the world.

Here is some rare footage of an He 162 taking off... (no sound)

05 December 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

5 December, 1944       0855

My dearest sweetheart –

I know I won’t get very far with this letter, but it’s worth a try – In a few minutes I’ll be taking sick call and the morning will be on its way.

1000

Hello again, darling – the morning is on its way all right. I know I won’t be able to write this p.m. because I’m a member of the Board and we’re meeting today. The Board, by the way dear – is a Section VIII.

1040

Hell, dear – I don’t know why I even try to write in the a.m. – but as I started to tell you, I’m on a Section VIII Board and they’re usually long drawn-out affairs. Have you had any occasion to meet up with a Section 8 case? They’re usually rather interesting. This one coming up is morbid, but that’s about all I can tell you about it.

Yesterday was a rather dull day – once it got going. I got no mail and sat around doing very little the greatest part of the afternoon. In the evening I read. I’m supposed to visit one of the line batteries starting tomorrow and for 3 days, but I doubt if I’ll get to stay out. The last time I did – there was too much taking place back here at battalion and I was continually running back. I spoke to the Colonel about it and he agreed that my first duty was here. What I’ll probably do is go out for a couple of hours in the afternoon and be back again at night. Sorry, darling. I’ve got to leave again.

1115

Here I am again, sweetheart, and this time I’ll make a concerted effort to finish this. I’ve wanted to mention something you wrote me some time ago, and I keep forgetting. I guess I had written you on a blue day and asked you to date etc. I thought you might be a bit angry on reading that letter and I was pleasantly surprised at the way you reacted towards it. I love you for many many reasons, sweetheart, and one of them is your attitude – which has always been admirable – considering everything. You were very complimentary to me in your letter, but I suppose you know by now it won’t make me fat-headed. If anything, darling, anything nice you ever write or think about me – I’ll always try to live up to. I’m sure our love is a real one. If not – we’d never have come so far together without having become fed up with the circumstances. If you can take it – I know I can. My only concern is you dear – because I know how difficult it must be at times.

I was glad to read that you feel you understand my folks and they you. Regardless of the fact that we’ll some day live in Salem – a good in-law relationship is almost a necessary prerequisite towards a happy marriage. I’m not the over-demonstrative type – as you know, but you must have perceived by now that my folks mean more to me than folks mean to a good many other fellows. They are about the most honest and sincere people a fellow could ever hope to have as parents – and I’ve always appreciated that in them. That’s why I’m happy to read that you, too, understand them and can overlook whatever faults they may have. Whatever the latter may include – one of them is not superficiality – something I dislike intensely. I know how I feel about your family, too, darling – and I know we’ll get along swell. There shouldn’t be any of the ‘bickering’ which some couples have to put up with. I’m no youngster; I have a mind of my own and I think I know when to use it. The bickering – if any – usually results when the couple involved – are kicked around from one set of in-laws to the other. I’m pretty certain we won’t have to contend with that – in any case. But above all – we love each other and we’ll have our own lives to live – the way we want to live it and with God’s help – we’ll do it.

Well – I managed to get a few minutes of uninterrupted thought, dear, and I’m glad – because I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed that letter – its contents and how you felt about things.

For now, darling, so long. My love to the folks – and

My everlasting love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Section VIII

During World War II, the term "Section VIII" referred to a category of discharge from the United States military for reason of being mentally unfit for service. Many chronic minor offenders, mental defectives, alcoholics, psychopathic states including sexual deviates, and other personality disorders were referred for psychiatric evaluation but could be discharged from the service only by nonmedical (administrative) proceedings. These cases were usually first sent for psychiatric evaluation and then, if deemed appropriate, were referred to "Section VIII" boards. This section of the general regulations (AR 615-360, 26 Nov. 1942), dealing with premature separation from the service, provided for the release from active duty for a wide variety of behavioral problems under the heading "inaptness or undesirable habits or traits of character," as follows:

(1) Is unable [included mainly intellectual deficiency], or

(2) Does not possess the required degree of adaptability for military service [including incontinence and personality disorders with little or no acting out behavior], or

(3) Gives evidence of habits or traits of character [including acting out behavioral disorders, alcoholism, and "sexual perversions as homosexuality" (considered perverted behavior by the military at that time)] which serve to render retention in the service undesirable or,

(4) Is disqualified for service, physically or in character, through his own misconduct [including mainly individuals injured and disabled during the commission of a military or civilian offense], and cannot be rehabilitated so as to render useful service before the expiration of his term of service without detriment to the morale and efficiency of his organization.

Although Section VIII provided for training, reassignment and reclassification, and rehabilitation for the unable or inadaptable categories (1 and 2, above), in actual practice little salvage was accomplished, as indicated by the number of personnel discharged under these provisions during World War II.

All cases were processed by a board of three officers, one of whom, if practicable, was a medical officer. Whenever practicable, a psychiatrist was called as a witness. But more often, the psychiatrist's report of his examination and findings was utilized in lieu of testimony. The board proceedings were governed by rules of procedure applicable in special courts-martial, and counsel was not authorized. The board findings and recommendations were reviewed by the convening authority (the next higher commander) and forwarded to a major commander, usually a general officer, for final action and discharge, if indicated.

Discharge under the provisions of Section VIII was generally of the honorable type for the unable or inadaptable categories because "the conduct of the enlisted man during his current period of service had been such as would render his retention in the service desirable were it not for his ineptitude or lack of required adaptability for military service." In effect, such an individual was considered to possess defects of intelligence or personality which exculpated his inability to render adequate service. Not so for the other two categories that involved acting out or psychopathic behavior, chronic alcoholism, or sexual perversion, including homosexuality, for which discharge without honor (blue) was usually given.

Service members holding a blue discharge (printed on blue paper) were subjected to discrimination in civilian life. They were denied the benefits of the G.I. Bill by the Veterans Administration and had difficulty finding work because employers were aware of the negative connotations of a blue discharge. Following intense criticism in the press – especially the Black press, because of the high percentage of African Americans who received blue discharges – and in Congress, the white vs. blue discharge was discontinued in 1947, replaced by two new classifications: general and undesirable.

As of September 2011, homosexuality is no longer a reason for discharge from the United States military.

04 December 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

4 December, 1944        1235

Dearest sweetheart –

Monday – the start of another week. It’s not particularly blue here either, dear. For one thing – the sky is clear here at the moment and that makes the day a good one. Secondly – it’s only 21 days to Christmas – although why that should make us feel better, I don’t know – so we’ll leave that one out. Maybe it’s because of the shows we saw yesterday afternoon. We did actually get to see Marlene Dietrich – and believe me, darling, that was a treat. Up to now – we had always just missed out on the big Stars – e.g. Dinah Shore, Bing Crosby – and some of us were beginning to wonder if they actually ever did get up front. Well, Dietrich did, dear, and it was something to see. The show was put on in a German theater – seating capacity about 600, I should say. It got started at 1330 and lasted until 1500. There was the usual M.C. – and a couple of comedians. And then out came Dietrich. It’s hard to describe the reaction experienced by most of the men. You have to be able to picture a theater packed with men in all sorts of uniforms, needing shaves, wearing muddy clothes and boots; in that atmosphere a very attractive woman in a glittering gown steps out on a stage – and boy – they really yelled her a welcome. She surprised me. I thought she’d look older and more tired. Actually she was very refreshing, her hair a glistening blond, and her gown – form-fitting, of course. She didn’t do very much – talked a bit, played a musical saw – yes, she did – and sang a few songs, including the famous Lily Marlene, which is actually a German song, a product of this war.

December 1944 - Stolberg, Germany
Leaving Theater after Marlene Dietrich Show

In the p.m. I read a bit and just took it easy in the evening. This morning was fairly busy and I have a few things to take care of after I finish writing this. The mail has been practically nil these past few days – although packages have started coming in. I got one yesterday from Ruth. I believe there’s peanuts in it – but I haven’t opened it yet. That makes two packages I’ve received – counting the one I’ve already told you about.

So you’re still having trouble with your watch, darling? I don’t know why you just don’t throw it out and get yourself a good watch – a Mido, for example. As a matter of fact – that Mido of mine has done an excellent job, although it has never had to go through war conditions – the wear and tear it suffered a few Saturday nights – I can think back to. I was all prepared the day we hit the beach; and had my watch wrapped with transparent rubber on the trip across the channel., Actually – as it happened, I didn’t even get my feet wet. We came off our barge in a jeep – on the crest of a wave and kept going. I was standing up and the water just came up over the floorboard. Before I knew it – we were on the dry sand.

As for my radio – that’s really playing swell now – knock wood. It is now working on G-I tubes and G-I batteries and I’m all set with plenty of spares. I don’t regret one bit the money I paid for it.

I’ll stop now, sweetheart – hoping I hear from you today. I love you darling and reading in your letters that you love me too – makes a day complete. But I know you do – even without the letter – and so I’m happy anyway. My love to the folks, dear – and

My deepest love is yours for always,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Marlene Dietrich in Stolberg, Germany


Marlene Playing the Saw in a Form-Fitting Gown

Greg mentioned Marlene's singing "Lili Marlene," and The Route of the Question Mark mentioned her singing "See What the Boys in the Back Room Will Have." Presented here are both songs.

03 December 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

3 December, 1944        1015

My dearest Sweetheart –

There’s a short lull in activities at the present moment and I’ll get a letter started to you, dear. Church services are being held next door by our Chaplain and it’s comparatively quiet right now. It looks like another fine day and we’re all surprised. We’ve had 4 or 5 fairly decent days in a row and that is most unusual – It’s really a treat – because one of the pleasures of this war has been in seeing a clear sky above and our fighter-bombers overhead having a field day. And don’t think out Infantry doesn’t love it, either. I was talking with an infantry officer the other day and that was one of the things he mentioned. He said that although they had to duck very often, it was very comforting nevertheless to hear the sound of strafing planes – friendly planes – just ahead of them.

Last night, after a quiet day, we sat around and listened to the Army and Navy game direct from Baltimore. The reception was good and it sure was like old times. I lost 5 marks – my bet with the Colonel. The game went on the air at 1900 and was over at 2115. After that – we played 3 rubbers of Bridge and finished up just short of midnight.

Today there’s a rumor around that Marlene Dietrich is to give another show right here in this town at 1300. We don’t know how true that is – but we’ll probably go down to see. It’s supposed to be given in a theater near our C.P.

Do I play ping pong? I have in the past, darling, but haven’t for some time. I don’t like to play unless I can have a shower immediately following the game because surprisingly that game can really give you a workout.

Your remarks about sex etc. – in a letter of yours – I read very carefully. We never did get much of an opportunity to discuss that subject; and it’s more complex than most people realize. Sexual incompatibility is the basis of more unhappy marriages than most people realize. I sometimes think that free love before marriage is a good idea. The only drawback in my estimation is its impracticability. I agree with you dear that it is a very personal subject and I can’t understand how married people can discuss their own sex problems or situations openly in front of others, no matter how close people may be to them. We’ve had several officers married in our outfit since the early days and the way some of them described things – disgusted me. I could never do it. As for your desire to remain a virgin pro tem – I think that’s a perfectly natural desire and that’s the way I want you. We’ll take our chances on sex – as so many people before us have done. I rather think we’ll make a go of it –

With interruptions and an occasional patient – it is now 1150. I sometimes don’t re-read my letters now before mailing them because they sound so disconnected, but I know you understand. It’s rare that I can start a thought and follow it thru without some sort of interruption. But the fact that I love you, sweetheart, and want you – can never be interrupted in my mind – and that is the most important thought of all. Love to the folks, darling and

My sincerest love,

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Frances Y. Slanger, U.S. Army Nurse


Lieutenant Frances Y. Slanger, R.N.

A Time magazine article titled “World Battlefronts: The Wounded Do Not Cry,” from the week of 3 December 1944 (dated 4 December), told some of the story of Army Nurse Lieutenant Frances Slanger. Here is a more complete version of her story:

In 1913 Freidel Yachet Schlanger was born in Lødz, Poland three months after her father left for America. In 1920, seven-year-old Frances, mother Eva, and sister Sally boarded a steamship to escape the persecution of Jews in Poland. They arrived at a U.S. Immigration Station where Frances met her father for the first time. It was here that her name was changed by immigration officials to Frances Y. Slanger. In Roxbury, a part of Boston, Massachusetts, Frances helped her father peddle fruit every day. She remembered her family’s suffering in Eastern Europe and longed to help others as a nurse. Her parents instead hoped that she would marry. Much to her parents’ dismay, Frances followed her dreams, graduating from Boston City Hospital’s School of Nursing in 1937.

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Frances Slanger in 1930

At home in Roxbury, 29-year-old Frances Slanger heard news from her relatives in Poland. The invading Nazi forces had torched synagogues and were imprisoning Jews in ghettos. She knew Jews in Lódz were being shipped to Auschwitz and Chelmno. Her Polish relatives (of whom only one survived the Holocaust) were being forced to make German uniforms. Frances longed to help fight for democracy overseas, so in August 1943 she enlisted in the Army Nurse Corps. With bad eyesight, she had to talk her way overseas. It was said that she wrote poetry and short stories, valued life, took risks and wanted to make a difference, including helping to resist Hitler's forces.

Army Nurse Recruitment Poster

Just 4 days after the D-Day invasion, Frances waded onshore at Normandy, France, to find 17 truckloads of injured soldiers. Two hours later Lieutenant Frances Slanger and other Army nurses were at work. They slept on the ground and wore the same clothes four days running. In five weeks of rugged going they helped handle 3,000 casualties. Assigned to the 45th Field Hospital, she worked as part of a surgical team on the front lines. Even through these hard times, Slanger knew that she had found her calling. She cared for each and every patient of hers as if they were a long lost brother or friend that she had met again. Here she was free to help her patients as much as she wanted and in any way that she wanted. If the patient was having trouble lifting his head to drink water, she put an IV bottle and rubber tubing together to create a water bottle. If they wanted the bullet or a piece of shrapnel that wounded them as a souvenir, she gave them what would make them happy. And if she wanted to sing to a wide-eyed soldier to remind him of home, then she did just that. Slanger quickly realized that many times the soldiers needed more than just IVs and surgery to heal. These shell-shocked boys needed love and care, as was evident from their frequent moans for their mother. What stood Slanger apart from other nurses was that while most nurses only tended to the soldier’s physical needs, she tended to their psychological needs as well. She often gave them the will to continue fighting to live. To these boys, the nurses in mud-stained dresses and unkempt hair were angels.

By October, the 45th Field Hospital Unit was stationed in Elsenborn, Belgium, where it tended soldiers from the Battle of Aachen. In early October the girls were touched when a news article praised them for sharing the G.I.s' mud and discomfort without a whimper. The night of October 20, Slanger couldn’t sleep. She and her tent mates had been discussing the heroism of the men who put their lives on the line every day, and she felt the need to set her thoughts to paper. The next day, she sent her letter to the Stars and Stripes editors, who ran it in the November 7th edition under the heading, “Nurse Writes Editorial." Here is that letter:

It is 0200, and I have been lying awake for an hour listening to the steady even breathing of the other three nurses in the tent, thinking about some of the things we had discussed during the day.

The fire was burning low, and just a few live coals are on the bottom. With the slow feeding of wood and finally coal, a roaring fire is started. I couldn't help thinking how similar to a human being a fire is. If it is not allowed to run down too low, and if there is a spark of life left in it, it can be nursed back. So can a human being. It is slow. It is gradual. It is done all the time in these field hospitals and other hospitals in the ETO.

We had read several articles in different magazines and papers sent in by grateful GIs praising the work of the nurses around the combat zones. Praising us - for what?

We wade ankle-deep in mud - you have to lie in it. We are restricted to our immediate area, a cow pasture or a hay field, but then who is not restricted?

We have a stove and coal. We even have a laundry line in the tent.

The wind is howling, the tent waving precariously, the rain beating down, the guns firing, and me with a flashlight writing. It all adds up to a feeling of unrealness. Sure we rough it, but in comparison to the way you men are taking it, we can't complain nor do we feel that bouquets are due us. But you - the men behind the guns, the men driving our tanks, flying our planes, sailing our ships, building bridges - it is to you we doff our helmets. To every GI wearing the American uniform, for you we have the greatest admiration and respect.

Yes, this time we are handing out the bouquets - but after taking care of some of your buddies, comforting them when they are brought in, bloody, dirty with the earth, mud and grime, and most of them so tired. Somebody's brothers, somebody's fathers, somebody's sons, seeing them gradually brought back to life, to consciousness, and their lips separate into a grin when they first welcome you. Usually they say, "Hiya babe, Holy Mackerel, an American woman" - or more indiscreetly "How about a kiss?"

These soldiers stay with us but a short time, from ten days to possibly two weeks. We have learned a great deal about our American boy and the stuff he is made of. The wounded do not cry. Their buddies come first. The patience and determination they show, the courage and fortitude they have is sometimes awesome to behold. It is we who are proud of you, a great distinction to see you open your eyes and with that swell American grin, say "Hiya, Babe."

Nurse Slanger never got to see her letter in print. The same day she mailed it, 21 October 1944, the rain fell hard in Elsenborn, Belgium, a town not far from the German border. The area had been quiet for days and dinner was a normal affair. Quite unexpectedly, the 45th Field Hospital came under attack by German artillery. Foxholes had not been dug on the assumption that Elsenborn was in a safe area, and as a result, there was little cover from the barrage of German shells. Days before Frances would get to live her dream as a published writer, a German shell ripped into her tent and slashed through her stomach. She died a half hour later.

Two weeks after her letter was published, the editors of Stars and Stripes printed an article, notifying readers of her death. Hundreds who had been touched by her letter wrote in requesting she be honored for her service to her country. Frances had been the first American nurse to die in Europe. On February 13, 1945, a U.S. Army hospital ship, Lt. Frances Y. Slanger, was named in her memory. The first all-women’s veterans' chapter in the country, the Lt. Frances Y. Slanger Post #313 of the Jewish War Veterans of the U.S. was founded in February 1946. Representing all Jewish women veterans, this post was committed to community service, women’s rights, and programs that helped Jewish communities, such as combating anti-Semitism globally. One of the post’s immediate plans was to create recreational facilities for veterans of all religious denominations.

The Grave of Frances Slanger

Frances was buried in the U.S. cemetery in Belgium. In November 1947 her remains were returned home for a memorial service with more than 1,500 in attendance, including friends, relatives and the Mayor of Boston.

02 December 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

2 December, 1944       1030

Good morning, darling –

Well – I ought to have a bit more time today and maybe this will end up as a letter. We’re almost through our week’s work and we’re just catching the loose ends today. It’s a nice crisp Saturday here – a perfect day for the Army-Navy Game. I’m hoping it rains at Annapolis, though – because on a wet field, Navy could win. I’m a mean guy, huh? Well I have a bet on with the Colonel – he being a West Pointer I thought I’d have some fun and pick Navy. The bet is very complicated. It starts our as an even money, big stakes (5 marks) bet. However – if Army wins by 20 points or more, I pay off double; if Navy wins – I get paid double. One of the boys said the game was being broadcast this evening – so we ought to have some fun this evening playing a little Bridge, having a couple of drinks and enjoying the game.

The Colonel, incidentally, has been very nice to me and gave me a very nice recommendation the other day. All MC’s in this theater received a form to fill out concerning past experience, College and Med. School attended, years of internship etc. The form also asked for a preference in assignment, how long with present outfit – and on the last line it asked for the CO’s estimate of the MC’s ability. I naturally said I’d like to do a little surgery after being a battalion surgeon for 29 months. The Colonel wrote a note saying that I have done a “superior” job as battalion surgeon but he believed that it would be for the best of the Service etc. if I could do some hospital work somewhere. Well – it won’t lead to anything, I’m sure, but it was a nice gesture on his part – for it could conceivably mean that he would end up with another M.C. – and it’s much better having one who knows the men of the battalion. He was being very fair about it and generous in his use of the word ‘superior’ – especially as a Regular Army man. They usually don’t go above the word “excellent”.

I really don’t care much any more about the possibility of getting into a hospital. For awhile – a few months ago I thought I would like to get out of here but one hears so much – it’s difficult to know what to believe. For example – if I thought I would be demobilized the same time this outfit was I’d surely rather remain here; but if when that time comes they take all MC’s and put them into hospitals then, I might just as well get into one right now. Anyway, darling, I’m keeping you as up to date as possible.

I found your discussion of love, constancy etc. – which you brought up in one of your letters – very interesting and enlightening. I never did take you for a flighty person. You just didn’t strike me that way – although I’m fully aware that you can be emotional. I know some girls can take their ‘loving’ – regardless of the source and as often as possible. I’m glad you’re not like that, sweetheart, but then – I couldn’t love you if you were. As for me – I am a man, and I have “been around” – to use a very old expression – but I guess you know, that was before I met you. Even if you wondered – you know very well about my activities ever since I met you and left you. I’m much too sensible to become involved in anything – as so many of our soldiers have done since leaving the States. And even if I were at home – if you don’t know, darling, I, too, am a pretty constant, one-woman sort of fellow. I want only you, dear, and will always feel like that. I need only one attraction to keep me interested and sweetheart, that interest is you and you alone.

One more thing before I close, dear. You mentioned in a P.S. that I don’t answer a good many of your questions. Gosh – I read every one of your letters over and over and when I write you, I try to answer everything chronologically. The only explanation I can imagine is that I haven’t received all your letters. I have no file – so I can’t be sure. But anyway – I’ll answer everything I’m asked darling. O.K.?

I’ll stop now, dear. No mail yesterday – but maybe today. Hope all is well at home, darling. My love to the folks and

All my everlasting love,

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Eisenhower and the Rubber Shortage

Greg received the letter below in his role as Battalion Surgeon

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HEADQUARTERS EUROPEAN THEATER
United States Army
Office of the Commanding General

2 December, 1944

TO ALL OFFICERS AND ENLISTED MEN, EUROPEAN THEATER OF OPERATIONS:

Today, as our armies exert ever-increasing pressure against the last defensive walls around the German Reich, the importance of bending every effort to hasten the day of victory in Europe is of personal concern to us all. From the top to the bottom of our military structure there is room for but one thought: to win the war.

This is a war of supply quite as much as it is a war of tactics. Furthermore it is a war which consumes supplies at a terrific rate. While our factories at home produce these supplies it is up to us to use them wisely and conserve them where possible.

One item of surpassing importance is tires. Tire wear in this Theater has exceed all pre-combat estimates. As a result we now are faced with a tire shortage which will, unless drastic conservation steps are taken, deadline ten percent of our vehicles by the first week of February.

Care and conservation of tires is based on a few simple rules. Observance of these rules is a clear-cut function of command. In addition there must be a keen awareness and eagerness on the part of every officer and soldier who rides in or operates a motor vehicle to protect that vehicle's tires for future trips.

I am not exaggerating when I say that the war will be needlessly extended unless we extract every possible mile from our tires and use them only as we find it necessary to do so.

DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER
General, U. S. Army

Although the following article from The Pittsburgh Press was not published until 21 March 1945, it does address a bit about the rubber situation in 1944:

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